THE INCA TRAIL
the big South American adventure rally
Day 16: Ayacucho - Huancayo (395km)
The highest road in the world? Maybe not, but the highest one with llamas and Audis... |
Liddell and I'Anson in a hurry again |
The later classics and 4x4s travelled on a smooth but hair-raising new gravel road to Lircay, where the latter started a 70km mountain Regularity Section. This went to a mere 15,000ft.
The 4x4s, meanwhile, headed from Lircay along a rough road past copper, lead and zinc mines to the 5,059m (16,593 ft) Abra Huayraccasa: claimed to be the highest motorable pass in the Americas. Another one for the photo album!
The 4x4s enjoyed their visit to this highest road - even though it was snowing by the time most came through (yes, in the tropics). Crews took it in turns to photograph one another under the sign marking the summit at 5,059 metres - and then Phil Surtees in Course Car 7 came along. Photo time again. Unfortunately, when Phil came to move away, his Mitzi was firmly wedged on a boulder. Derek Hunt (Vauxhall Frontera) and David and Jennifer Bishop (in another Mitsubishi) between them managed to haul Phil clear to continue his duties...
Whatever next?
Sunday was hardly a day of rest for John Blanckley and his crew in The Auld Bassoon. Tony Davies gave us this resume. 3km from the start at Ayacucho: all five wheel studs shear from the nearside front wheel of the venerable A90. The wheel shoots off down the hillside; the car stops, grinding along on its disk.
As ever around here, a couple of young lads appear from nowhere. One lad is given the job of finding the wheel; the other sets to to search for the missing studs. He succeeds in tracking down three. By the time the car is ready to roll again, three hours have elapsed. 70km later, the engine boils. It is left to cool down, but 10km down the road the same happens. The crew look at the thermostat - clearly it's a gonner.
After another 40km, the electric fan sheds its blades. They sort this out, by which time the car and its crew are around three hours behind time.
100km further on, the brake pedal travels to the floor ... it turns out that the brake pipe from the servo has fractured on the flare. They cobble something together, allowing them to continue, but with rear brakes only.
Yes, they made it to the finish - but by then they were an alarming four hours late! Better luck tomorrow ...
Adrenaline time
David Liddell and Mark I'Anson got more of a road race than they'd bargained for en route to Huancayo. Half an hour into the day their Escort sputtered to a halt. A quick inspection revealed the culprit: the distributor had come loose, and was revolving aimlessly. But worse, when they tried to start the engine to set things up again, the starter motor had jammed. Putting finesse to one side, they rebuilt the distributor then set it to a position where the car should somehow run. They push-started it. It fired. They tweaked a little. It ran better. All this cost them some two hours.
'The next six hours or so were one long dash,' commented Liddell.
'We reached the Regularity while it was still open, did that OK, then it was foot to the floor again for 150km or so to the Huancayo Control. Yes, we made it in time. And what a drive!'
This little piggy went to market (but tried hard not to)...
Colin Heathcote had to look hard as he left the Plaza de Armas at Ayacucho. He saw a black plastic bag in the road ahead of him, moving slightly as he approached. He avoided running over it, and, curious, he opened the door of his Chrysler Jeep, leaning out for a closer look. The bag moved again. He saw the bag was tied at the neck, with just the snout of a small pig sticking out, still alive and very much kicking.
As Colin was wondering what to do, a farmer's truck came down the road towards him, laden with vegetables and other goods, plus one or two more similar black plastic bags. The farmer approached Colin, took the bagged pig back, quickly checked that the beast was still alive, and slung it over his shoulder to return it to the truck with the rest. As he did so, the pig began to scream as only pigs can. Perhaps he knew that now there was no escape from the lunch table.